


bandit

by cyrusbarrone



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Dream thing, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, bad language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 01:09:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11302626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyrusbarrone/pseuds/cyrusbarrone
Summary: Kavinsky takes a dog from his dreams. He didn't mean to.





	bandit

**Author's Note:**

> Just a disjointed thing about Kavinsky with a dog. Just different events with the dog etc bc i have to give all my favourite characters dogs lol - also a place to put forward my opinion on people who cut their dogs' ears (: lol pls enjoy

“Huh.”

In Kavinsky’s hands – and across his lap, and his bed too – was a dog. 

He tilted his head at it and it mimicked the movement. Its ears – which were large and magnificent triangles hanging from the side of its head – drooped to the left as they stared at one another. The dog was an ash blonde colour; the skin around its eyes and nose was a pale pink. The dog curled its lip at Kavinsky; brutal canines peeking out from beneath and growled, low and deep.

Kavinsky grinned. 

-

“Since when did you get a dog?” asked Skov.

Kavinsky was sat in his basement and Bandit was sat before him. She had her ears pricked at the sound of someone new, though didn’t move to investigate. She stared at Kavinsky until he snapped his fingers to allow her to move. She slinked to Skov and growled deep in her throat as she stuck her nose against his palm, then his crotch. She sniffed accusatory before turning on Swan and doing the same once over. She did not bother with Prokopenko; a dream thing in his own rights. 

“I dreamt her,” Kavinsky said, smug. 

“Joseph Kavinsky dreams of puppies and sugar,” Swan said, amused. 

“I dreamt up Proko, didn’t I?” Kavinsky asked. He dropped his head onto on the sofas back and leered at Proko. “Right, sugar?” 

Proko rolled his eyes and his lip pulled in a similar expression to Bandit’s. Kavinsky grinned and smacked Proko’s ass as he went in front of him to sit down.

“What’s her name?” asked Swan as Bandit stared Jiang down. 

“Bandit.”

Kavinsky snapped his fingers and Bandit turned her head. Her eyes were as pink as her nose; they resembled Kavinsky’s own eyes after a joint or two. She blinked at him before obeying. She pushed past Skov and Swan until she was before Kavinsky again. She sneered at him, fighting the obedience he’d dreamt into her being. 

Swan and Skov sat on the sofa opposite Kavinsky. Jiang settled onto the table between the couches – he was the perching type; more likely to sit on the edge of a table than a chair; more likely to lean against the edge of a sofa than to sit on the cushions – while Proko sat next to Kavinsky. Proko leant forwards to pet Bandit’s ears. She reluctantly dropped her head into Proko’s touch, her expression pointedly saying that she was not enjoying this treatment. 

“What is she?” Jiang asked. He was staring at her blankly. 

“A dog, dumbass,” Kavinsky replied. 

“Ha-ha.”

Swan said, “She looks fucked up man-“

“Hey, fuck you, man, coming in here and calling my dog ugly-“

“She’s a Doberman,” Proko supplied as he petted her ears; her smooth neck. “Albino, or something.”

Bandit sat a little straighter at her identification and Kavinsky nodded at her. Doberman’s were badass; of course he’d dreamt of a Doberman. 

-

Kavinsky watched smoke settle around Proko’s face. He was just out of the lines of sunshine coming from Kavinsky’s half closed blinds, but his cheeks were still warm; eyes still shining. He tilted his head at Kavinsky and raised his eyebrows, cigarette bobbing between his lips. Kavinsky glanced at his bottom lip before looking back to his pale eyes. 

“You’re fucking sappy in the morning,” Proko accused; voice a smile.

“Admiring my goddamn work,” Kavinsky said. “Fucked up though with your fucking arrogance.”

Bandit moved at the end of the bed. She shot a look at Kavinsky that was filled with anger before settling down once more. She continued to stare at Kavinsky and Proko. 

“She’s defending me,” Proko said. “She likes me more than you.”

Kavinsky snatched his cigarette and sat up. He looked between his two dream things and rolled his eyes. Bandit sneered at him. Proko patted a hand on his stomach in comfort. 

-

“Why haven’t you got her ears cut yet?” Skov asked. 

They were sat outside the Kavinsky mansion. Proko and Jiang were in the pool and making out. Swan was fiddling with his iPhone and a portable speaker, changing each song after thirty seconds of playing. Kavinsky was laid on a sun lounger, a burnt down joint between his fingers. Skov sat on the same sun lounger, Bandit at his feet with her pink eyes unblinking at him. 

“I’m not maiming my fucking dog,” Kavinsky said fiercely. 

“It’s not maiming – it stops infection.”

Kavinsky sat up. His voice oozed condescension. “Oh, yeah! Cuts are so clean and definitely stop infection, wow, Skov, you’re a fucking vet, huh? Her ears are fucking fine.”

“Proko’s ears are bigger than Bandit’s,” Swan added.

Kavinsky pointed finger guns at Swan in agreement before lying back on his sun lounger. He flicked his sunglasses over his eyes despite it being night. 

-

Bandit looked wrong on the end of a lead. The muscles on her shoulders tensed and rolled and her ears flicked in irritation. Kavinsky, shortly after leaving the house with her, unclipped the lead from her collar. Bandit jogged on in front of him and Proko, though did not go out of sight. She glanced back to check on Proko every now and then.  
Proko took Kavinsky’s cigarette from his mouth as they walked. The stick bobbed as he talked. “I’m glad I wasn’t in the bed when you brought her back.”

“Makes it sound fucking weird,” Kavinsky said. He looked ahead of them where Bandit was stopped and waiting. “Got her here like I get everything, man, just took her. Like I took you.”

“Like you took me,” Proko agreed. 

Kavinsky wrapped an arm around Proko’s hip and pulled him into his side. Proko was still a good five inches taller than him – one of the Proko’s he’d brought back had been significantly shorter than Kavinsky and he’d sunk into himself the moment Kavinsky pulled him out of a dream. He’d shrunk and shrunk until his nose was in his toes and there was nothing else. It was odd to think he had brought back a dog without going in with that intention. He’d not often brought things back he didn’t intend to; namely when he’d gone in and wanted Proko he often gotten broken and fractured imitations. Bandit was perfect, if colourless, and he’d just ended up taking her. Accidentally. It was odd. He wasn’t one to question his dreams, though. 

_Bonus sober Kavinsky and Bandit_

Kavinsky patted Bandit’s ears absently. She allowed it. He looked down at her, eyes blank, tired. She settled down against his side and placed her chin on his stomach. He ran his hand over her smooth neck and stared at his ceiling. She closed her eyes and the dreamed slept. Kavinsky pet her ears until he too fell asleep. 

He did not bring anything back, but Bandit was still there when he woke up. She growled at him and his lips twitched.

**Author's Note:**

> please tell me what you think! tumblr is in bio if you want to speak about the dream pack with me !! <3
> 
> this is what bandit looks like!   
> https://www.dogbreedinfo.com/images24/DobermanPincherWhiteVeraDogsWhiteDob.jpg  
> https://i.ytimg.com/vi/NIoI9DNiDec/maxresdefault.jpg but with floppy ears


End file.
